Sunday, July 5, 2015

Sometimes, Fly Slow.

"Sometimes a butterfly needs to fly slow."

True words spoken by the wisest 5 year old I know. As she walked carefully out of the ER this morning, her words just reminded me how spectacular she is. She always knows what to say at just the most impactful moments. Wearing her rainbow colored wings that had gotten her through all those past hospital stays, she knows to take it easy and not fly so fast back into "normal" life.

In the 9 months post chemotherapy, it's been easy to assume that she is in the clear. In that time she finished preschool and is preparing for kindergarten. In that time she rehearsed and performed in her first ballet recital. In that time she has become a happy 5 year old who's been basically free of medications and hospital stays. In that time she has gotten to reclaim her childhood and just be- ANIA,  Our Survivor and Our inspiration to keep moving through life at a steady, yet all too fast pace.  

This morning, we were reminded that a butterfly like Ania still can have delicate wings -  even though she is a warrior who beat Cancer. Today, we as her parents were reminded that we too are not fully healed from the trauma of what it was like to watch her battle Cancer, be taken in for tests & poked with needles. It still hurts and is something that we will probably never fully recover from. 

This morning she came into our bedroom crying in pain- saying her chest hurt and it was so tight when she breathed. She crawled into our bed and I could feel the heat radiating off her little body. The type of heat that used to send me into panic mode during treatment returned. She'd been complaining of pain in her chest for the last few days but I brushed it off as "growing pains." You know, normal life pains. Add a fever to the mix and I immediately feel the dread and worry. I didn't say it out loud but certainly thought it. Her dad said it outloud though- "what if it's some kind of Cancer returning?"  Off to the ER we went. I shoved her rainbow wings into my purse. To me, they are some sort of hospital good luck charm. If she wears them, she will be ok. 

Now that she is 5, she is so much clearer in her responses to doctor questioning. Unbelievably mature. I was in awe of how she could explain what she was feeling and how she took directions to have her chest x-ray done. She told me she had to throw up with enough warning time for me to leap across the room for a bucket ( not an easy feat for an 8 months pregnant person!) She cried when it was time to have her blood labs drawn but giggled when it was time to pee in a cup- see she's seen me do that so many times throughout this pregnancy so it made her laugh to try and "catch her pee!" 

Thankfully, her xray came back clear but we left the hospital with a diagnosis of Costochondritis and a mystery viral infection. Basically random swelling of the cartilage of her sternum along with some pesky viral bug. Nothing that rest and Motrin won't fix in time.  A mere reminder, that just sometimes, a butterfly must fly slow

Life has it's way of reminding of us it's delicateness. Fly slow sometimes and keep healing my Dainty Warrior! 

God Bless,